


Airplanes

by emilyshee



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Carlos and Cecil Reunion, Episode Style, Happy Ending, M/M, Post-Episode: e049 Old Oak Doors Part B, Reunion Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-07 02:16:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1881291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilyshee/pseuds/emilyshee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SPOILERS FOR OLD OAK DOORS PART B:  Carlos finally returns to Night Vale and is reunited with Cecil.  Written like an episode of the podcast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Airplanes

_A fool and his money are soon parted. A fool and his misery are soon united. A fool and his body are soon possessed, by dark, shadowy creatures with tentacles and many glowing eyes._

**Welcome to Night Vale.**

The Night Vale Scorpians are having their football camp this week to prepare themselves for another opening game against the Pine Cliff Lizard Monitors. It is only the first day of camp, but Coach Nazr al-Mujaheed announced that he is already impressed with his players’ hard work and team spirit. **“These are good football boys** , **”** he told reporters during the first water break, **“They work hard. They practice hard. They will play good football.”**

In other news, listeners from all over Night Vale have been calling in to report spotting a 747 flying through local air space, usually inside some home or building, appearing with a tremendous roar and giving onlookers only a glimpse of frightened passengers before disappearing as suddenly as it appeared. It seems to be materializing with greater and greater frequency as time progresses and is now spotted several times a day in different areas of town. Thus far, it has always disappeared again before crashing into any person or structure that would appear to be in its flight path, but it would seem to be only a matter of time before disaster strikes. As of news time, this is believed to be the same commercial airliner seen just over a year ago in the home of Becky Canterbury, and which first appeared inside the elementary school gymnasium two years ago during basketball practice, on the very day that C-Carlos the Scientist first arrived in Night Vale.

Which brings me to a related point, listeners. Many of you have been asking for updates on Carlos’s progress in the strange desert world in which he has been trapped and wondering why I no longer mention him here on the radio. As for the second part of your question, it’s because I do not want to talk about it. But your many phone calls and emails have reminded me that memories of and concerns about Carlos do not only belong to me. I have been thinking of Carlos only as my boyfriend, and had forgotten that he is also Night Vale’s favorite scientist and most beloved outsider, and that I am not the only one concerned with his future. So I will now, to the best of my ability, give you all the news that I have about Carlos as is my responsibility as a radio professional. And after that I do not wish to discuss it further. I hope you understand.

To recap, Carlos became trapped in the mysterious other world with its desert both like and unlike our own during the successful revolution against Strexcorp several weeks ago. Carlos figured out how to close the mysterious old oak doors that were letting in the terrible, all-consuming light that was threatening to devour all of Night Vale. But in his zeal to help his beloved town, he forgot that the strange doors would only wait for the return of natural-born Night Vale citizens, and became trapped on the wrong side when the doors finally disappeared for good. You know all of this, Night Vale, and you know how he had been trying to figure out, using science, how to get back home. You know this because I kept you updated on Carlos’s progress as he related it to me over the phone. He used to call me every night.

The last I spoke to you about him, dear listeners, he had given up on trying to create a portal directly from that other desert world to Night Vale and had decided instead to turn his efforts to creating a way back to his original hometown, and returning to Night Vale from there. “ **This desert seems to like putting people back where they originated** ,” he said to me in his caramel voice, “ **And I’m sure, once I’m there, I’ll remember again how I got to Night Vale in the first place, or I’ll find someone else who can remember it for me. I’m sure I’ll be able to travel from there to Night Vale. I did it once, Cecil, I’m certain I can do it again.** ” Ah, listeners, if I could only hear my name in his voice just one more time…

Anyway, what I did not tell you, dear listeners, is that Carlos’s attempt to discover a way from the desert back to his hometown was successful! I was on the phone with him when it happened and I can tell you what he said.

 **“I’m looking at an old oak door, standing by itself in the desert,”** Carlos told me, “ **I cannot tell which way the door opens, but it doesn’t seem to be locked. I’m turning the handle now and meeting no resistance. I am opening the door. The rusty hinges squeak in protest, but it opens easily. Through the door I can see manicured suburban lawns and small, prewar houses. I am looking at one house in particular. It has been painted recently, but I think – no I am certain! It is the house I grew up in! There are the azaleas my father planted when I was five, grown big with the years. And I can see the window of my childhood bedroom with the telescope my sister and I used to share still behind it, pointed at the night sky, the ambient light reducer that she invented for the 8 th grade science fair still attached to the lens. The plan worked, Cecil, I am looking at my home, right now. Hmmm. It looks nice with the shutters green.**

“You never mentioned that you had a sister,” I said.

**“No, I didn’t. It’s strange, Cecil, when I was in Night Vale, home seemed so distant and foggy – not like I had forgotten it, exactly, but that it was…irrelevant. I just didn’t think about my childhood or my family – ever. As if they weren’t quite real, or important. But looking at the house, everything is coming back so vividly. I don’t know why I never talked to you about my past, and my family. I can’t believe I never called them.”**

“Never mind. We can think about that later. Let’s get back to the door. Is anything happening right now?”

**“There is something happening. I am still watching through the door as a blue electric car is pulling into the driveway of my parents’ house. I do not recognize it, but it looks new, so it may have been purchased after I left. A woman with steel gray hair is getting out of the driver’s seat. Her back is towards me, so I cannot see her face, but she is wearing a lab coat. She’s turning around to come towards the walkway and – it’s my mother, Cecil! She’s home. I am looking at my mother, whom I haven’t seen in over two years. I do not think she can see me, or the door.”**

“Carlos, you must go through that door,” I said, “You should go home and see your family. Then you can figure out together how to get back to Night Vale.”

 **“I will Cecil, and don’t worry,”** he said, **“My parents are both brilliant and dedicated scientists. With the three of us working together on the problem, it should not take us long to solve. I’ll see you soon.”**

“I hope so, Carlos. Good luck,” I said.

 **“Thanks, Cecil. I love you,”** he said, **“OK. I’m going through the door now-”**

 **“-Mamá?”** I heard him call.

And then the phone cut out. And I never heard from him again, listeners. He did not answer any of my many calls, or texts, or emails. I haven’t seen him post anything on Facebook or tumblr. He was just – gone.

This is what I believe happened, Night Vale. This is what I have to believe. That Carlos got home, safely. That he saw his family again, and all his old friends. That he was surrounded by love, and good memories, and science – science that works, with laws and duplicable results and questions that can be answered. And by the little things I know he missed living in Night Vale: bread made with real wheat, and legal pens, and the privacy that comes from having an inferior police force that does not care enough about you to listen to your every conversation and watch you while you sleep. And these things – the people, the reliable science, the little luxuries of outsider life – became as real and immediate to him as they had felt distant and unreal while he had lived _here_ , among us, and it was all the people and places and scientific anomalies that had surrounded him in Night Vale that began to feel distant and unreal. I think that he remembered all the reasons to love his original home and forgot – or felt disconnected from – all the things that had made him choose to stay in Night Vale so long. I think that he no longer wants to come back, listeners, and that the reason I haven’t heard from him in so long is that he cannot bear to tell me that he chose all the things that make his original home a home over the home he had in Night Vale – over me.

Because the alternative, listeners, the alternative is that he _can’t_ call me, because something dreadful has happened to Carlos. That stepping through that door caused the atoms in his body to rip apart and disintegrate, or the picture of his home and his mother was a false one luring him into the mouth of some great beast that has swallowed him whole, or that shortly after reaching home he was killed by one of the mundane dangers that haunt our daily lives when we are not trapped in strange otherworldly deserts. I cannot bear to contemplate this, listeners. I cannot bear to live in a world where Carlos is unable to contact me because he is truly gone. I prefer to believe that he no longer contacts me because he chooses not to.

Or well, former-intern, now-Mayor Dana thinks there might just be something wrong with his phone, but if that were the case, he would have just emailed me, right? I mean, they have internet outside Night Vale. Come on.

So when I think of Carlos now, I choose to picture him safe and happy, with his family, in a home where he is no longer everyone’s favorite outsider but simply: an insider. I hope that he still thinks about me, listeners, and misses me sometimes – but not as much as I miss him, because this is a pain that I would not inflict on my worst enemy, not Steve Carlsberg or Telly the Barber – _no one._ And that is all that I have to say on the subject of Carlos the scientist.

*clearing throat* *shuffling papers* *deep calming breath*

Getting back to the news, I’m being handed a report that that mysterious commercial airliner that’s been seen all over Night Vale for the past two years has finally come in for an unscheduled landing at the Randy Newman Memorial Night Vale Airport. Witnesses report that dazed and confused passengers are beginning to disembark and –

You know what, listeners? I just don’t feel up to talking about this one today. This story is reminding me a little too much of other things that suddenly arrived in Night Vale on the same day that that that airplane was first seen. So, the plane has landed, good for it, I guess – and we will have full details about it and its intended flight path and passenger list and anything else you might wish to know tomorrow, when hopefully I will be in a better mood.

Let’s see what else is on the schedule for today. Hmm. There’s been another unfelt earthquake here, don’t think I feel like reporting on that either…there’s an update about the tiny city under lane five of the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex that I’m sure can wait for another day…the team of remaining scientists is starting work on a new experiment, no…something here about the lights above the Arby’s – Seriously? Is there nothing in the news for today that doesn’t remind me of you-know-who?

You know what? Intern Maureen – Intern Maureen? Could you go down to the football stadium and get some updates about the practice camp? That is one thing going on in this town that has nothing to do with perfect scientists and their perfect hair who made perfect boyfriends before going away forever and leaving all of us in perfect loneliness. Thanks.

And while we’re waiting for Intern Maureen’s updates, how about I keep you all entertained by reading you the latest chapter of my _Jaws_ fanfic. It’s a juicy one. Just let me get the story up on my phone here and –

My phone’s buzzing. Listeners, my screen’s displaying a missed call - from Carlos! No, two missed calls from Carlos. Five. Now ten. And it looks like he left me some voicemails. And several text messages!

Listeners, Dana was right! There was something wrong with Carlos’s phone. And whatever it was is fixed now, and I’m seeing all the times he’s tried to contact me over the past several weeks. _Why doesn’t he ever think of emailing me when this kind of thing happens?!_

I have to call him. I have to call him right now, listeners, and – The call’s not going through. Urgh, his phone must be tied up sending me all of these old notifications! OK, um, I’ll just have to wait till it’s finished with that. Maybe in the meantime I can start listening to some of these voicemails.

*beep*

 **“Hi, Cecil. Sorry I’m calling so late, but I spent a lot of time catching up with my parents today. I assume you’re sleeping, but actually, since time doesn’t work in Night Vale, I’m not sure if it’s even still night where you are. Maybe you’re not answering because you’re already at the radio station. Anyway, we’ve talked about it and we’re all pretty sure I drove to Night Vale because my parents remember that I was packing the car when they came to my apartment to say goodbye and I know that I was still driving my car in Night Vale, so I must have brought it with me. But none of us has any idea of the route I took or even which state I was going to. I was really hoping my memories would come back when I got back here. Oh well, I’m sure we’ll figure it out. Do you think the Night Vale Tourism Board would have any information about coming into Night Vale from the outside? I need you to talk to them for me and get back to me with everything they know about Night Vale travel. I’ll tell you more about my family and what they said when I see you again, which I hope will be soon. Bye Cecil. I love you.** ”

That must have been from the same day he stepped through the door! Oh, listeners, you have no idea how good it feels to hear his voice again. I know this is supposed to be a _community news_ radio show, but I have to keep listening.

*beep*

**“Hi, Cecil. My parents and I are working on tracking down any information available here about Night Vale that could give us any clues as to its location. They are a bit disappointed that I’m trying to leave again so soon, but they understand that, as a scientist, I can’t be happy until I’m back in the most scientifically interesting town in the US. Plus, I miss you. Why haven’t you called me back yet? You don’t have to wait to hear back from your contact at the Tourism Board, if that’s what you’re waiting for. I just want to hear your voice again. Please call me soon. I love you. Bye.”**

*beep*

**“Cecil, it’s been days since we’ve spoken and you haven’t responded to any of my texts or emails. You haven’t even updated your tumblr, I’ve been watching. I know you’re busy at the station; you have a very important job. But I need to hear from you soon, please. Is it…I’m starting to think that you don’t want me to come back to Night Vale anymore. No, that’s a silly thought. I’m sorry it slipped out. Ignore that. I know that if you were having…doubts, about our relationship, or if you’d found- found someone else, I know you would tell me about it. I know you would. A scientist is certain. That is the 8 th thing a scientist is. And, speaking as a scientist, I am certain about you. Please call me. Please.”**

But, listeners, I was updating my tumblr then! Mostly with new wood carvings of Khoshekh and despairing, but vaguely worded, personal text posts obliquely referring to how much I missed Carlos! Why didn’t he see any of that? And why didn’t I get his emails? And he thinks I didn’t want to talk to him! Do you think he’s still mad at me, listeners? I have to listen to the next voicemail.

*beep*

**“Hi, Cecil. Sorry about that last message. I think I’ve figured out what’s going on now. My parents told me today that they tried to contact me several times in several ways when I first came to Night Vale, and none of it seemed to get through to me. When they said that, I suddenly remembered that I _did_ try to call them a few times during my first week there, and I couldn’t get through either – and it was only after that that I got so busy with the fascinating science in Night Vale that I forgot all about them. I don’t know how I managed to forget them. Cecil, when I finally get home, I need you to help me remember. I don’t want to forget them again. And we’ll have to figure out how to contact them. I want to stay in touch this time. I don’t know if you’re getting these messages and are unable to respond or if you’re not hearing me at all, but just in case you can hear me, I’m going to keep talking. We’ve been gathering data – that’s what scientists do – and we’ve been able to conclude with 99.7% certainty that Night Vale is not depicted on any private or government maps or ordinance surveys of any area within the continental United States. However, we have found some anomalous seismic activity that looks a lot like what we were reading in Night Vale, and I’ve contacted FEMA about where they send their checks when they read a cataclysmic earthquake in the environs of the town, and I have estimated a geographic radius that Night Vale should be located within. My parents lent me enough money to buy a cheap used car and I am leaving tomorrow to drive over every road within that area until I find it again. I’m not sure how long it will take me to check over the entire search field, but I hope it does not take too long. I hope that I see you soon. I have to go, now, Cecil. I love you.”**

*beep*

**“Hi Cecil. I know it’s been a while since I’ve called. I’m still not sure whether or not you’re even getting these. I’ve tracked over every inch of roadway I could find in the area I’d marked out, and I still couldn’t find any trace of Night Vale. I asked people in the towns and roadside diners I came across if they knew the way, and none of them had even heard of it. Finally, I contacted a meteorologist I know who owes me a favor and whose lab has access to a helicopter. We flew over every inch of the desert, and we still saw nothing except perfectly normal non-Night Vale towns, empty desert terrain, and an occasional vague haziness that could have been heat waves rising from the desert sands or some sort of cloaking shield hiding a small desert community from the prying eyes of outsiders. I cannot be certain. But I have not given up. I am a scientist, and a scientist is persistent. I will find you again. I’ll call when I have more news. Bye Cecil, I love you.”**

*beep*

**“Hi Cecil. I have been thinking. That’s what a scientist does. I’ve been thinking about travel, about ways to and from places, and about the places that become important to us. I’ve been thinking about the many ways there are to move from one place to another in three-dimensional space. I’ve been thinking about cars, about trains and boats, about just walking, and about how those are all simply ways of getting us from where we are to where we want to be at greater or lesser speed. I’ve been thinking about planes. About the geometric planes that define our physical world and about the airplanes criss-crossing the sky, taking people from one place to another, following their assigned routes - except when they make completely unscheduled arrivals at the Night Vale airport that are a surprise to both pilots and air traffic, and are the result of routes that seem to violate the laws of physics. I have been gathering all the information I could find about the diverted planes – their intended flight paths, their flight numbers, their passenger manifests, the weather in the places they took off from and the places they intended to go. I think I have discovered a pattern, Cecil. I think I can predict which planes will make a seemingly random unscheduled stop in Night Vale. But this is only a hypothesis. A hypothesis needs testing through experiments. So I’ve bought a plane ticket. I am at the departure gate now, waiting to leave. If I’m right, I will get off this plane in Night Vale. I do not know when this will happen: time doesn’t work in Night Vale, and none of the clocks are real. But if I am right, I will be seeing you in the present or the future, as soon as I step off this plane. And if I am wrong, and the plane reaches its intended destination without incident or detour –then I will try something else. I promise you that I will never stop trying. But I hope that I don’t have to try anymore. I hope, that when next I speak to you, it will be in person, and you will be able to answer back. They are calling my row now, Cecil. I’m getting on the plane. I hope when I get off, I will be able to tell you in person that I love you, and I won’t have to say goodbye.”**

*electronic voice*End of messages.

Oh sweet, non-smiling gods of eldritch horror! The plane! The plane that I refused to report on that is even now sitting in the Randy Newman Memorial Night Vale airport. Carlos might be on that plane! He might be back in Night Vale! That would explain why his phone is working again!

Listeners, I have to get to the airport. Now. But I can’t leave you with dead air while I go. Maureen! I need you to go to the booth and patch the signal through to my cell phone so that I can broadcast from the road. Intern Maureen? Oh, I forgot, listeners, I sent her to the football stadium! Stupid Cecil! Every decision I’ve made today has been wrong!

Fine, I’ll do it myself. Let me just put on a pre-recorded segment so I can go into the booth and change the signal…where is it now? Where did I put that recording? Why can’t I do anything right today? I hear a car pulling up outside the station, and glancing quickly out the window before resuming my search I see that it looks like Larry Leroy from out at the edge of town! Maybe he can drive me to the airport if I can just find the – got it!

And now, listeners, as I hear the studio door opening behind me – that you Larry? – I bring you all to the –

**“Actually, Larry was just giving me a ride from the airport.**

**“Cecil, are you OK? You’ve gone stock-still and you’re trembling. All the color is draining from your face. I am so sorry it took me so long to find my way back. The data was limited, and I did not anticipate the communication problems. I don’t know how long it’s been, for you, since we last spoke. I don’t know if you got any of my messages. But I’m here now. Anything you want to tell me – if you’re angry at me for taking so long, or glad to have me back, or sad for all the time we’ve spent apart, or none of that, or all of it at once – you can tell me now, and I can answer. We can talk again, Cecil. We’re together again. I’m home now. Cecil, please say something.”**

_Webringyounowtotheweather._

*weather plays*

*4 minutes of weather*

*weather ends*

Oh, um, the on-air light’s back on. Excuse me. *clears throat.*

Oh happy day, listeners! It is the best day in the history of Night Vale! Carlos, perfect Carlos, beautiful Carlos, wonderful Carlos –

**“Cecil!”**

\- is back with us again!

**“Hi, Night Vale. It’s good to be home.”**

We are all – every one of us – so indescribably happy to welcome back our own favorite scientist, who will never leave Night Vale again! Right, Carlos?

**“Actually, my mother wants us come for Christmas.”**

But you only just got here and – wait, us?

**“Yeah, the whole family really wants to meet you. My sister even said she’d cut her fieldwork short so she could be there. And I don’t think that we’d have any travel problems if we went together since you’re a native of Night Vale. Janice’s mom doesn’t have any problems when she leaves on business trips, does she?”**

No, but – you told your family about me?

**“Of course, Cecil. Oh, and I showed them a picture of you from my phone. My Papá thinks you’re handsome.”**

I – oh, um – I think I can get a few vacation days around Christmas. If Intern Maureen’s still around, she can take over the broadcast for me. She’s very promising!

**“Great! I’ll get my team of scientists working on the phone situation and we’ll see if we can’t figure out a way to call my parents and let them know we’re coming.”**

But you’ll do that _tomorrow_ , right?

**“Of course, tomorrow.”**

Because tonight you’re not going anywhere except home.

**“Well, I did kind of promise to go back to the airport and give the pilots scientific advice on how they could get the plane back on their original flight path.”**

_Carlos!_

**“All the people on that plane are lost and confused and probably not any happier to be trapped in Night Vale than I was to be trapped outside of it. I know what it feels like not to be able to get to the only place you want to be.”**

Well, I can’t imagine that wherever they were going could possibly be any better than Night Vale, but OK, fine! I guess I can do without you for a couple more hours.

**“But, you’re coming with me to the airport, right?”**

You want me to come with you? I can help you, with the science?

**“Yes! And, you know, for personal reasons too.”**

Well, Night Vale, it looks like I will be spending the next few hours helping my scientist boyfriend heroically rescue a plane full of stranded travelers. You all stay tuned for the sounds of Beethoven’s 9th symphony rendered by fourth-graders on cheap, out-of-tune recorders. And so I leave you, much happier than we were at the beginning of today’s broadcast, by saying good night, Night Vale, good night.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever fic, but I felt like we could use it after this episode. I tried to get both of their voices and the style of the show right. Hope you like it!


End file.
